No one at all to disarm
The seas they are clear now
And soon so soon there will be calm
But first a raucous adventure
Some way beyond the gales
A theatre for rolling and rocking
And for ably going off the rails
No one was there though
No one to hold nor to charm
The tide turned ever so slow
As lips without the curing balm
But yes there was a naughtiness
In so deep it was a new way to fail
The novelty of such intense haughtiness
For a time it matured but then too went stale
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